


Stagedive

by Llewcie



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Character Bleed, Cockles Week, First Kiss, M/M, Polyamory, Public Display of Affection, Robert Singer needs to expand his horizons, jibcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 19:45:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3949342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llewcie/pseuds/Llewcie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jibcon is where it happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stagedive

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still angry at Singer, since he clearly thinks we don't deserve nice things. Just my own idle speculation. Except about Misha's thighs, because hot damn. For Cockles Week 2015.

It happens on stage, at a convention.

Jus in Bello, actually, which is fitting, being the convention of love. Supernatural is cancelled after eleven seasons-- they had gotten the news the month before but not soon enough to wrap up every loose end in the canon narrative (although, to be honest, that might have taken another full season.) The main loose end, of course, is that Destiel never officially became canon. No on-screen kiss, no unmistakable declaration of romantic love. Nothing but the same old subtext. And the consensus, both within the cast and crew and on Twitter and beyond, was that it wasn't fair. Fans had been faithful, had been willing to wait to the end, and the crushing disappointment after the word was out that there would be nothing else, well. It rattled the window casements of the internet.  

Jensen lifts the mic to his lips, his hand steady for now. He is alone on stage, tasked with the setup, which really irritates him, but Misha convinced him that the fans would take him much more seriously. How did Jensen become the trustworthy one? He clears his throat. "So, you guys are in the right place at the right time. Get your cameras ready, since this is only going to happen once." A susurration of murmurs erupt outwards, a drop of water that makes ever-expanding concentric rings. Jensen imagines that the waves don't stop at the walls but continue outward through social media unto the ends of the earth. It's happening; it's happening.

He can feel the buzz under his skin, adding to his nerves that have been building ever since they had agreed to do this, almost a week ago at a late night A16 party. Quite a few people had given their two cents before the final decision, although notably not Singer, while Carver had just shrugged, noncommittal, and said, "Whatever you guys want." Felicia had been a leaping puppy of excitement, as had Osric, who had squealed like a 13 year old boy and swung Felicia around in his arms. Even Jared had been pretty enthusiastic about it. "Why not?" he had shrugged, smiling small but genuine. "You'll make a lot of people happy."

Jensen did not feel happy at the moment. Fortunately, he hadn't had to voice aloud to Jared, _You won't be the one kissing Misha in front of hundreds of people and their phones_. Jared knew already, a little bit about how Jensen felt about Misha. Had called him on his flirtatious behavior more than once, teasing and prodding at Jensen's not-so-secret crush. Then, though, he had taken Jensen by the shoulders, his eyes soft with understanding. "It's Dean kissing Cas, man. Doesn't need to be anything other than that." And Jensen knows this, he knows, except that after eleven years, he hemorrhages Dean out of every frayed seam, and when he looks at Misha he doesn't know which heart swells with affection for him, or maybe it's both and he can't tell the difference anymore.

Danneel, his queen, his champion, had been equally gentle. On the phone, when he had called her for a final consult, or maybe to have her say, absolutely not (give him an out.) But she had only smiled, over the phone (he could hear her smile, bless her beautiful face) and told him, _About damn time, Jen_. And he knew she knew how much he felt for Misha, and had never been afraid to call it love to Jensen's face. So no excuses. He was committed.

He and Misha had even practiced, a dress rehearsal in front of friends and crew this morning, just to make sure the body mics wouldn't crackle or broadcast the rustle of their clothes as they moved through the rudimentary blocking. He had forced himself to kiss Misha, too, perfunctorily-- just a touch of lips and a loud smacking sound added to chase away any seriousness-- Mwah! Everyone had chuckled, and Misha had grinned at him playfully before rubbing a finger over his own lips, cheeks pink.   But if Jensen had thought that would make this any easier, he had been terrifically wrong. Misha's lips had been warm and soft against his, and he had smelled so fucking good, without the reek of makeup and hair product and clothes they'd all been in a few hours too long under the hot stage lights. Just Misha, pressed up against him for half a second, which was half a second longer than Jensen thought he could bear.

All of this swirls through his head as a stage tech comes to trade his handheld mic for the ambient body mic. Jensen likes holding the mic-- it's another layer of armor between him and the crowd. With the body mic, he feels far more exposed. His heartrate ratchets up as the mic leaves his fingers. And then Misha walks onstage, and Jensen's stomach joins in the acrobatics. He's gonna faint, or throw up, or both.

They had decided not to go into this in costume, a decision that Jensen was now profoundly regretting he didn't fight harder against. Misha is in worn denim that hugs every curve of his powerful thighs (God, those thighs-- how many nights had he dreamt about being framed by those runner's thighs…) and a royal blue button-down with the sleeves rolled to just beneath his elbows. His hair is a beautiful disaster. Misha is a beautiful disaster, Jensen thinks, and that's not helping him. He breathes in deep, shoving away the panic and the nausea, tugging the edges of Dean and sinking into him. He focuses on Misha and thinks, _Cas. Castiel, who I love. Castiel, who is all that's left._

So it's Cas who stands before him. Jensen feels Dean slot into place. Dean is the extrovert. Dean can stand in front of a crowd and not be afraid. He shifts his feet, turning more fully to Misha (to Cas). He clears his throat, finds Dean's voice right there waiting.

"Cas, it's over."

Misha nods, and it's Cas nodding. "I am glad you are here with me, here at the end of all things, Dean."

Jensen grins, joy and sadness bubbling up inside him like a live thing. Holy shit, he feels so damn much. "Dude, are you quoting Lord of the Rings at me?"

Misha returns the smile, wistful and coy. "It is one of the great stories, after all. Like yours."

"Ours, you mean." Jensen steps closer. "Our story."

"Yes." Cas's voice is at once in his ear and inside his heart.

Jensen doesn't have to reach very deep for the gravity he needs. It's all there, all of it just below the surface. "We should have stayed dead, Cas."

"Dean?" Misha cocks his head, the mannerism still adorable after all these years.

"I said it a long time ago. What's dead should stay dead. And I was right."

"Dean." Misha is close enough that Jensen can touch him, now, even though he doesn't. "Dean, no. Had you stayed dead, I never would have known you. And that is unacceptable."

"Cas…"

"No, Dean. If ours is one of the great stories, then ours is also one of the great loves. Because I love you, Dean. I love you more than the world. More than my Father. More than myself." Cas's voice shivers, and Jensen (Dean) leans into it, that shimmering fracturing of emotion.

"Stop, Cas, you can't mean it. I've been so fuckin' bad for you. You've fallen, you died over and over, you've been broken, and that's all on me."

"I would do it all again." Jensen can hear the ringing certainty in Cas's voice. "I would do it a hundred times just to know this love. You are worth _everything_. Dean, do you understand me?" And Jensen knows he's got another line in there, but he can't recall it-- can’t think of anything at all except Misha's beautiful face within reach. Jensen shakes his head, and maybe it's _him_ that's broken. Maybe he's the one with the crack in his chassis. (Maybe that's how the light gets in.) He presses his palm against Misha's cheek, hooks his fingers at the bolt of Misha's jaw. And Misha comes easy to him, falling into him like he weighs nothing at all.

Their lips meet and press, flatten against each other. Jensen can feel the rich texture of Misha's mouth tremble for a breathless second. And then Misha tilts his head, parts his lips, tugs Jensen's bottom lip into his mouth, weaves his strong fingers through Jensen's hair, and that's it. Jensen is _lost_. He is fucking falling, his senses consumed by _hot_ and by _wet_ , by the coffee and cedar and watermelon smell of Misha's skin, so much sweeter than what he can keep in his head.

Misha's hands close on the sides of Jensen's head, tipping him more deeply, dragging his mouth obscenely against Jensen's jaw. Jensen's heart is hammering.   A tiny sliver of what is left of his rational mind recalls that they are on stage in front of hundreds; that this is being recorded for posterity and Tumblr from a hundred different angles, but it barely registers. Misha is both solid and fluid against his body, muscle and teeth and hard bone, and Jensen thinks if he would fall on Misha he would shatter, and that's so alright right now, so good.   Because he is absolutely fucking certain that he's halfway there already, and that's all he wants.

With a last huffed breath, a tiny secretive lick against the tip of Jensen's tongue, Misha pulls slightly away, breaking the kiss with a damp sucking sound that rings through the ambient mic. It's a little ridiculous, and the dam breaks, the stunned-silent crowd erupting into screaming cheers. Misha is grinning, laughing, his lips grazing Jensen's chin, his mouth again, and Jensen has to dip back into that honeyed heat again, pressing Misha's mouth one more time before he pulls away.

It's that last kiss that ends up breaking them wide open. Everything else has layers of plausible deniability, but that last, small kiss is in 4K HD and it's so fucking obvious that it's for real that neither of them try to deny it. Publically, Danneel and Vicky are openly affectionate with both of them as well as with each other, and as the moment gets played over and over until the tape wears thin, until it loses most of its shock value and fades into the background noise of a delightfully public, gently polyamorous relationship. It's not the last time Jensen kisses Misha on the mouth in public.

As for in private, no one is all that surprised that Misha and Vicki buy a summer home in Austin.


End file.
